


Dying Wishes

by lanoirpapillon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Derek grants Stiles his (sarcastic) last dying wish, Dying Stiles, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Proper Characterization of Stiles and Derek, Sad, Spoilers from Season 3, The Darach kidnapped Stiles while the pack was fighting in 305, Written for Operation Positivity, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:06:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanoirpapillon/pseuds/lanoirpapillon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn’t say goodbye. It would make this real and he’d have a panic attack, he wasn’t going to do that to himself in his last few minutes as a conscious being on this Earth.</p><p>So he did the next best thing. He tilted his eyes up, rain trailing down the sides of his face as he met Derek’s eyes, smirked, and said, “Kiss me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying Wishes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kedreeva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedreeva/gifts).



> Prompt: Sterek- First Kiss in the Rain
> 
> From Kedreeva

“You fucker! At least kill me right!” Stiles whispered roughly, trying to force his hands apart in an attempt to loosen the rope binding them. There was no give, his hands falling slack as blood loss finally registered to his limbs.

He was feeling cold, shivers wracking his body, and his head was hurting more than it had ever hurt before. The only place radiating warmth was the right side of his skull, where the darach had smashed his head into the tree he was currently bound to with ropes and a silver wire stretched tight against his throat. It had cut him just enough to let him slowly bleed out, the wire giving the right amount of pressure to hold back a majority of the blood waiting to spill at his feet. The thing meant to kill him was keeping him alive.

A burst of lightning flashed in the distance, thunder following seconds after. It was close, he thought. I’ll get to die in the rain, just like Mom. The morbid side of him sneered, a fitting end.

Shuffling crept towards him from the opposite side of the tree, the person moving slowly, their breathing labored.

The rain began at that moment, hard and fast, the drops creating a rhythm against the ground. His hair fell into his eyes, sticking to his forehead, the water dripping into his eyes and trailing down his cheeks like tears.

“‘m not crying,” he mumbled, taking in a wet breath. “‘m not gonna cry.”

“Stiles?” A familiar voice gasped beside him. The man’s bruised and bloody torso appeared before him first, the man’s hand moving from the gaping wound on his own stomach towards Stiles’ shoulder.

“Don’t make me move, I’ll only die faster.”

The hand paused in mid-air, falling slowly to his side. They stood there silently for a moment, letting the water beat against both of them, neither knowing what to say, what to do, when one of them is obviously actually dying.

Stiles closed his eyes, his body growing weaker by the second. His first thought was his Dad. His Dad was going to find him tied to a tree, bled out, just like the other three virgins. He had tried to call Scott when he had discovered the identity of the darach, only for it to go straight to voicemail. Isaac’s was next, no response. Deaton, Boyd, no one. Not one answer. In his time of need no one had come to save him.

“You’re hurt.” At closer look, the wounds were made from claw marks, Derek’s shirt was in tatters, he had been fighting. And by his slow progress in healing, he bet it was the Alpha pack.

“It’s just like you to say that.” Stiles let out a choked chuckle, his adam’s apple bobbing as he took a deep swallow and winced. More blood came from the wound on his neck, the stream faster than before, he didn’t have long.

“No it’s not.”

“I know, I don’t know what to say when someone is dying slowly in front of me.”

Stiles wanted to laugh because Derek was a snarky son of a bitch in the worst of moments. He couldn’t even respond with a good retort in his position.

“Wolf’s got jokes,” he finally got out, hoping the trickle of liquid down his throat was extra saliva and not more blood.

Silence again, and that was like them. Derek standing there brooding, probably blaming himself for Stiles’ situation. Stiles was supposed to fill the silence, to joke and make sarcastic retorts because that’s them. That’s Stiles and Derek.

Derek sighed, moving closer to Stiles so that they were a foot apart.

“What can I do?”

Stiles breathed deeply, closing his eyes tightly. He couldn’t say goodbye. It would make this real and he’d have a panic attack, he wasn’t going to do that to himself in his last few minutes as a conscious being on this Earth.

So he did the next best thing. He tilted his eyes up, rain trailing down the sides of his face as he met Derek’s eyes, smirked, and said, “Kiss me.”

Derek blinked once, then twice in quick succession. There was a moment where Stiles thought he’d run away and leave him to die alone, the other man’s upper body twisting as if to turn and then hunching over slightly as the movement pulled at his wounds.

And then he squared his shoulders, met Stiles’ eyes and moved closer to him. Stiles gasped, wanting to flail away from the man that he was almost positive wasn’t close to gay, but remembered that he was currently tied to a tree. Their noses bumped and rain splattered from Derek’s hair and into Stiles’ eyes, causing him to close them tightly at the sting of water.

The warm pressure of Derek’s lips against his reminded him of how cold he was, and he shivered at the contact. He probably would have found this awkward if he wasn’t craving the warmth, as if the heat from Derek’s body could replenish the blood now flowing faster from his neck.

Derek moved his chin up, away from his chest, a claw coming up to cut the wire from the tree. The blood came faster then, it felt like it was gushing but he couldn’t have that much blood left in him.

“No,” Stiles gasped out, his body slumping forward against the tight ropes pinning his body to the tree.

“I know, it’s okay.” Derek breathed out, bringing his body against Stiles’ shivering one, his tattered shirt now soaked, sticking to Stiles’ equally wet clothing.

Stiles’ vision grew dark around the edges rapidly, and he leaned his forehead so it fit into the curve of Derek’s neck and shoulder.

“‘t’s getting dark, Derek.”

A hand carded gently through his hair, almost petting him.

“I know Stiles, it’s okay.”

He felt his heartbeat slowing, as if for one moment he had super werewolfy powers and could hear it. Was Derek listening to his heart? Listening as it got slower and slower with every second.

“Scared,” he sobbed out, tears finally springing to his eyes. And he knew he was holding on. He knew physically he should have passed out by now, that he should be in more pain, was Derek taking it from him?

“It’s okay.”

The hand never stopped moving, petting the back of his head, putting gentle pressure on his neck, and then moving back up again.

“It’s okay.”

Everything was dark now, and there was a ringing in his ears. This was it. It was finally happening.

“It’s okay.”

And that bright flash of light never came, but there was thunder. That much he recognized, that must have been the rumbling around him, thunder like he had never heard before, welcoming him to his death.

“It’s okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and let me know what I did right, what I did wrong, etc. etc.
> 
> You can find me over on tumblr at..  
> Http://www.imwiththewolves.tumblr.com


End file.
